


Tenderness Growing in Wild Places

by aestivali



Category: Warcraft (2016)
Genre: 5 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, First Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-09 22:46:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12285843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aestivali/pseuds/aestivali
Summary: Five first kisses Garona and Taria never had.





	Tenderness Growing in Wild Places

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moonshower](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonshower/gifts).



"You saved my people," says Taria, voice wavering but wondrous.

Garona shrugs. "I saved both our peoples."

Taria laughs softly. "You say that as though it were a lesser achievement."

Garona grunts. "It was survival."

"Whatever it was," Taria says, moving closer, "I am grateful. You did not have to do what you did. Especially after I doubted you so."

"I am used to being doubted," says Garona.

"Perhaps you should get used to being praised," Taria says, and stands on tiptoe to kiss Garona's forehead. "Thank you. For all that you did."

Garona feels herself blush.

-

"Get down," yells Garona, and a moment later Taria feels herself slammed into the dusty ground. 

A moment after that, an arrow whistles through the spot where she'd been standing.

Taria swallows, and looks up at the woman lying on top of her - heavy, even in her light armour, all dense muscle and coiled rage.

"Are you alright?" grunts Garona, pulling back a little.

"Yes, I - I think so," says Taria, propping herself up. Her elbows hurt from the impact, but it's nothing compared to - well, she knows how lucky she is.

"Good." Garona looks at her, eyes dark and wild. "I must join the battle."

"Yes, of course," mutters Taria. Her heart is fluttering, and she tells herself it's just the rush of adrenaline, but the way Garona is looking at her...

Garona moves to stand, and Taria grabs her arm.

"Wait," she says, tugging her back.

"Is something wrong?" growls Garona, and a few months ago Taria would have taken that for anger, frustration, resentment - but now, she knows it is fear.

"Yes," Taria says gently, reaching up a hand to cup Garona's cheek. "I didn't thank you."

And she quickly presses her lips against Garona's, feeling the heat of that green skin, the little nip of those tusks.

Garona gasps into her mouth, then pushes forwards, grasping the back of her head to pull her close.

Taria's heart is beating fast now, and she knows it's all Garona, even as the sounds of battle clash around them - she is no warrior, but with Garona here, she doesn't feel afraid. Garona has proved herself.

After a few brief but intense moments, Taria breaks the kiss. They exchange a look that says much, but which they both know must be discussed later, and then Garona grabs her sword.

"I must go," she says.

"Of course," agrees Taria. "You must help the others."

Garona nods, and gets to her feet.

Taria reaches for her own dagger, and prepares to do what she can.

-

"We found this one sheltering in their temple," grunts Anglash, as he throws the figure to the floor. "Seems to be one of their leaders."

Garona's stomach lurches when she realises who it is: Lady Taria, once Queen of Stormwind.

"Interesting," Gul'dan says slowly, and Garona can hear the malevolent glee in his voice. "What shall we do with it?"

Taria struggles to her feet, her fine dress stained and ripped, her face smeared with dirt, but her expression defiant. Garona is impressed.

"You may have won," declares Taria, "but you will never break me. You will never break the spirit of Stormwind until the last of us is dead."

 _That may not be long now,_ thinks Garona.

Gul'dan frowns. "What does she say, Garona?"

Garona shrugs, trying to look uncaring. "She says her mistress will be unhappy. She is the best hair-braider among her handmaidens."

"A handmaiden?" growls Gul'dan, turning to Anglash. "What is this nonsense?"

"Perhaps she could still be useful," interrupts Garona. "I would like a woman slave."

Gul'dan glowers at her, then at Taria. "You wish to claim her as spoils?"

"If you have no other use for her," says Garona, casually, though inside she is screaming.

Gul'dan grunts, then nods. "Claim her, then."

Garona steps forward and Taria stares at her, bound and dirty, unaware of the agreement just made.

"Garona?" she says, and Garona is proud of how little fear there is in her voice.

"Just play along," hisses Garona.

She steps up to Taria and places both of her hands on the former queen's face. "I claim this human as my spoils," she declares, in orcish, to the assembled company - and then she kisses Taria, fiercely, without respite.

Taria's eyes go wide, but she does not fight back. In fact her lips soften a little under Garona's advance. When they pull apart, her cheeks are flushed, just slightly.

The assembled orcs cheer as Garona raises Taria's arm in triumph.

"I am sorry," she whispers, "but you will have to trust me."

Taria swallows, then gives an almost imperceptible nod.

-

"You are injured," says Taria, rushing to Garona's side. "Let me help."

Garona grunts, pressing the cloth tightly against her side. "It is nothing."

Taria raises an eyebrow. "Don't be so much of an orc. Let me see."

"You should not," says Garona, shaking her head.

"Come now, do you imagine I haven't seen worse?" says Taria, laying her hand over Garona's.

Garona meets her gaze, but remains silent.

"Ah," says Taria, smiling gently. "You do imagine. You think I am a soft human queen, who has seen nothing but silks and feasts."

Looking down at Taria's exquisitely embroidered silk dress, Garona raises an eyebrow. "You are not?"

Taria slips her hand under Garona's. "Silk and feasts and blood are not mutually exclusive. I have tended to many wounded in my days."

Garona frowns, then leans back to allow Taria access. When she pulls away the cloth, Garona cannot help but let out a strangled moan - but Taria studies the wound in silence.

"It is deep," she says, "but you are lucky. It hasn't hit anything important."

Garona nods, and swallows hard. It is not the worst wound she has ever had - but it still hurts.

"Now, lie down," Taria says, gently, "so I can tend to you properly."

Garona grunts and moves to do so - but she twists too quickly, and it sends a wave of pain through her.

Taria catches her before she can fall off the pallet. "Slowly," adds Taria, smiling a little.

Garona nods, and this time she lets Taria lower her down.

True to her earlier words, Taria turns out to be quite the nurse. She cleans and binds the wound skillfully and efficiently; it is done quickly enough that even Garona does not start to get restless. But when it is finished, and Garona tries to rise, Taria pushes her down.

"No, you need to rest," she says, softly.

Garona grunts. "I will heal, standing or lying."

Taria does not give in. "You will heal better lying. Besides, you have more wounds." And Taria reaches out to touch a small cut on Garona's face.

"A scratch," she mutters.

"True," admits Taria, "but I have never left a patient needing my attention."

"It does not need your attention." Garona tries to glare, but Taria's hand is soft and gentle on her face. It is the most affection she has felt in... too long.

"Hush," Taria says quietly, and touches at it with a fresh cloth.

Though the other wound was more dangerous, more physically vulnerable, this one - Garona feels herself laid far more open in front of Taria's gaze. But Taria is not looking at her with disgust or shame, as other orcs are inclined to do, but with true sympathy.

Garona swallows, and places her hand over Taria's own.

Taria pauses in her work, and smiles down at her.

For a moment, Garona hesitates - then she gives in to her orcish spirit, and lifts her head to press her lips against Taria's, just for a second, before pulling away.

Taria smiles gently.

"Rest now," she says, moving Garona back down to lying flat.

Taria herself stands, and moves to go - but before she does, she places a soft kiss on Garona's cheek.

-

The dungeon is dark and dank, far less pleasant than the throne room above, but Garona is grateful for some time alone; she has rarely been alone in her life - always watched, taunted, judged. She stretches on the hard bed. It is small and makes her itch, but it is hers alone. Even in their punishments, these humans give her more than her own people.

But she does not have long to muse on this before her solitude is interrupted.

The queen is back, gliding across the room like a vision of grace and hope, carrying more food. Garona watches her, idly considering how easy it would be to crush her delicate body.

"Guard, please open the door," Taria calls.

There is a clank, and then Taria is stepping inside the cell, smiling.

Garona remains on the bed, giving her nothing.

Taria sighs. "It is a shame you would not join us. I believe you would have been a great help."

Garona grunts. "Not to myself."

Taria stands there for a few seconds, looking absolutely as regal as she is, even in this place, and then steps forward and slips the tray of food into Garona's lap.

"You think we would not have rewarded you?"

Garona grabs a chicken leg and begins to tear into it.

Taria pauses, then sits next to her, folding her hands in her lap. "We can offer you more than food."

Glaring, Garona swallows her mouthful. "Freedom? So I may be hunted by my own people and yours?"

"I think, given time, my people could come to see that you are not all bad."

Garona tears off another strip of meat and chews it, not even bothering to swallow before she speaks. "Why do you think good of me? I am your enemy."

Taria smiles, the corners of her mouth twitching, as if she knows a secret. "Perhaps I have seen what you have not."

Garona frowns. "You have seen nothing of me."

Taria gently places a hand on Garona's arm. "I have seen the way you are around me. I have seen who you could be in kindness, not in hate."

"Kindness means little to orcs," says Garona, not meeting her eyes. "Except as a weakness."

Laughing softly, Taria shifts closer. "If you truly believed that, you would already have killed me."

Garona lowers her chicken leg and looks at the guard. "I could have. But what then?"

"Then, I imagine, you'd run rampage through the city," says Taria, still looking amused, "at least until you were cut down yourself."

"A stupid end," grunts Garona.

"But an orcish one," says Taria.

Garona drops the clean chicken bone on the floor. "I am half orc."

"Yes," says Taria, smile widening, and slips her hand over Garona's. There is little difference in size, only colour. "I have realised."

Garona's brows tighten, but she does not move away. "Do you still think you will convince me to join you?"

"No," says Taria, brushing a thumb over Garona's skin, "but perhaps I will convince you that kindness has worth."

Garona swallows, looking down at Taria's hand, at that soft and gentle - and, yes, _kind_ \- touch. "What worth would it have in this place? I am a prisoner."

"Oh, Garona," Taria says softly. "It is in the worst times that it has the most worth."

Garona looks up at her, at those huge brown eyes, so wide and open and trusting, and there is a part of her that wants to accept this, to accept her, to accept this affection - even to - to -

With one quick movement, before the guard can even react, Garona lurches towards Taria - and presses their lips together.

Taria lets out a soft moan, and clutches at her. Garona hears the guard draw his sword, but she doesn't care - he can stop this if he wants, but right now... oh, right now, Taria's mouth is soft and warm and lovely against hers. And as Garona takes, Taria willingly gives.

When Garona finally pulls back, Taria is smiling at her, really and truly.

"I knew I had not read you wrong," she says.

Garona grunts. "Your kindness has broken my shield better than any sword."

Taria carefully takes her hand. "Kindness does not destroy. It restores."

Frowning, Garona gently squeezes her fingers. "I do not understand your human ways."

Taria chuckles. "One day, you will."


End file.
